Once in a Blue Moon
by Angelington
Summary: Wanda gets an invitation to sing at her father's opera house, finding out the rumors that a ghost is haunting the place, a demon with yellow eyes hell bent on destroying them. She's unsure what to believe, until a mysterious, invisible figure saves her life and disappears into the night. Is the opera house cursed? Or is something else happening? A Kurt x Wanda fanfiction
1. Chapter 1

It was late. The sky stretched above the opera house, a yawning, ebony black.

Inside, the security guard was locking up. He was new to the job, and had been given special instructions by his boss to make sure this job was done properly. Why these were 'special' instructions, he had no idea. Wasn't that the point of being a security guard? Making sure everything was locked up tightly and no one suspicious was walking around?

He shrugged, meandering down through the aisles and checking under red-velveted covered seats to make sure no one was lurking. Kind of stupid really, there wasn't much to steal in an opera. Unless you liked costumes and props. He supposed there was that strange rumour going around in the papers—

His train of thought stopped and he blinked, staring very hard up at the right balcony above the stage. Box five, they called it…it had been in the papers a lot recently. And he could have sworn…

"Don't be stupid." He snorted, turning away and trotting to through the auditorium, whistling without a care in the world.

Although he was walking rather quickly to not care.

He switched off the lights and finished locking up, tugging his coat around him and giving the large house a final glance.

Strange that….

He could have sworn he'd seen someone watching him from that balcony….someone blue.

 _My name is Kurt Wagner_

The pen paused for a long moment, causing a few splatters of ink to drip onto the paper. Several more moments passed, along with several more drops of ink before Kurt sighed and placed the pen down, shutting the book. He had come up with the idea of writing things down after someone had left behind a book in changing rooms the day before. It was called a 'diary'. Well, at least that was what had been written on the front. He thought it would be a way of talking…since he didn't really have anyone to do that with.

Strange, that. How he lived in a place where hundreds of people flooded in day in and day out, yet he never had human contact, never spoke to any of them. Just watched. He'd been watching for years.

Once upon a time he had tried to leave, to find people…friends, maybe. But he soon gave up that notion.

He picked up the pen once more.

 _I think it is good to write my name down, so I don't forget it. These days I never get called by my name. I tend to go by things like monster, demon, freak…or recently in the papers, the nightcrawler…_

Kurt blinked, placing down the pen and swivelling around, his ears pricked as a sound floated through the open window he was sitting in.

Someone was singing.

It wasn't an unusual thing for the opera house. Most of the plays were musicals and there was often rehearsals, and when there weren't the show itself was usually on.

However this song, this…person singing. It was very different to what Kurt was used to hearing.

He stood up in the window, leaning forward. Adjoined to the opera house was a boarding school, where the dancers and singers usually stayed. That was where the sweet music was coming from.

Kurt placed his bright gaze on the roof and vanished, reappearing on the tiles. He didn't move , not wanting to alert anyone to the fact he was there. There were enough rumours going around already.

He sat quietly by the chimney and listened to the sweet, almost melancholy song with his eyes closed, tail swishing back and forth in a relaxed manner.

Kurt wasn't sure for how long he sat there, only that the peaceful scene was interrupted by someone with a rough, steely voice telling the singer to silence herself. Kurt had been at the opera long enough—years in fact—to know that the scolding came from the opera owner himself.

Magneto.

Kurt knew everyone at the opera. The workers, the regulars, the girls who dances, the singers, the actors…he knew them all. Even if he never spoke to them.

However this one singer, who's beautiful song had been silenced, he did not know her. She must be new. However he hadn't heard that they were taking anymore new students. It was very hard to get into the school…and to stay for that matter. Lately many actors and dancers had been sent away.

"I hope this one does stay." Kurt whispered to himself, reappearing back in his hideout. However he stayed in the window sill, watching as the lights got turned out. For the brief time spent on the roof, he had felt…something.

Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

That he wasn't alone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Now, Wanda. There's someone I want you to meet." Magneto briefly touched his daughter's arm, turning her away from the view of the auditorium from the stage. "This is Simon Williams, my right hand man."

Wanda blinked at the man in front of her. He looked very familiar, she was positive she'd met him before at some point, though she wasn't sure where. She had been away for quite some time…only returning because her father was in desperate need of new singers. The opera was getting a very bad reputation thanks to the actors they'd had to let go and the newspaper articles spreading rumours. "Very pleased to meet you." She dipped her head politely before returning her gaze to the stage, the red velvet chairs surrounding it and the crystal chandeliers catching the light. What a beautiful place…hauntingly beautiful.

"Wanda."

Her father's voice interrupted her thoughts and she quickly turned again, finding him looking displeased. She must have gotten distracted again. "Yes, father?"

"Simon is going to take you backstage to get your costume fitted and tell you the schedule for this week. I have an appointment with the board committee." He exchanged parting words with Mr. Williams and left through the auditorium. Wanda watched him leave uncertainly. Things had certainly changed since she'd last seen him. But perhaps it was the stress of the opera house and it's curious stories. Her father didn't want to speak about the, however. He'd gotten rather impatient when she'd brought it up.

"Will you tell me about the ghost?" she turned to Simon, looking hopeful.

"Your father warned me you'd get distracted with such things." He sighed and gestured for her to follow him back stage. "It's best not to speak about such things. You might jinx the place even further."

"So there is a ghost?" Wanda probed, her gaze darting up to the ceiling and the dark, shadowy corners.

Simon muttered something incoherent under his breath before turning around and folding his arms. "I can see you'll keep asking questions unless it's explained. If I tell you, you're not to breathe a word to anyone that I said anything."

"I won't tell a soul." Wanda promised.

"Good. Because the last thing we need is this spreading further into the public." Simon quickly glanced around to make sure no one was within listening distance. "Your father has owned this opera for many years, as I'm sure you know. He built it and everything. As soon as it was open people were flooding in to watch the best singers, the best actors, the best dancers perform. It was a success right from day one."

Wanda desperately wanted to interrupt and ask some questions, but she bit her tongue and let Simon continue.

"Then things started to happen. Performers started going off the wall, crazy—whatever you want to call it. Eric—your father—he had to tell them to leave. He couldn't have actors coming to shows drunk. That was just the beginning too, things got worse."

"I heard items got stolen, then would return a few days later." Wanda cut in, feeling goose bumps on her arms.

"That's not the half of it." Simon murmured grimly. "Magneto set a security guard to try and catch the thief. He was dead in the morning. Savagely hung from the roof beams."

"But how does that connect with the actor….incidents?" Wanda was desperately trying to figure out a more logical explanation for something this terrible that wasn't a ghost or spirits or phantoms. "I mean…no one has actually * **seen** * anyone sneaking around, have they?"

"You didn't read the paper this morning, did you?" Simon asked quietly. Wanda shook her head. "The security guard last night saw someone watching him from box five. A demon with eyes of sulphur."

There was an unease silence for a moment.

"But that's ridiculous!" Wanda couldn't help but burst out finally. "None of this makes any sense! If there's really a demon haunting this place, why doesn't my father do anything about it?"

"He doesn't want to risk aggravating it further at the moment. He can't afford to lose anymore performers." Simon quietly moved on, pushing open the double doors to backstage.

Wanda followed him, feeling very uncertain about her job all of a sudden. "But it's still happening, isn't it? Isn't that…why my father gave me this role? Because he's still losing singers and actors…and the papers are scaring people away. You guys are desperate. And that's what I don't understand. Why isn't anyone doing anything?"

"Look, Wanda is it? I've told you what's been happening now it's time to put that to the back of your mind. You're a singer, your job is to preform to your best and make the crowd happy and leave the demon, freak, phantom thing to your father."

"But aren't you worried about this? If you're right and all this continues my father isn't going to have an opera house to run anymore."

Simon spun around, and for a moment he looked angry. But the flame died in a second. "If you're that worried yourself, talk to your daddy about it. Now, someone will be here in a moment to sort out your costuming and help you practice the songs." But Wanda didn't feel like she was in a good headspace to sing anymore.

"But—"

"Just do your best, and make sure you're out of here before dark." Simon called over his shoulder before vanishing.

That mornings newspaper lay on the window sill. The headline reading "demon sighted at opera house". In Kurt's hands he held clipping from many other newspapers, with similar headlines. He sifted through them, sorrow brimming in his large, yellow eyes before he dropped them and turned to pick up his pen.

 _Something in the sweet music last night made me feel less lonely. At peace. I have been living in this opera house for so many years now, doing the same thing every day. It makes it hard to feel anything._

 _And that music last night made me feel. Feel…many things._

 _It makes me wonder. If I can feel something…feel emotions_

 _…maybe that means I'm not a monster?_


	3. Chapter 3

_It has been a couple days since I heard the sweet singing outside the window. Many things have happened since then, things that concern me. I try not to worry, I listen to the singing instead. It calms me._

 _I still do not know the name of the owner, but she seems to be very popular with the crowd. The opera house has been doing better._

 _She practices a lot, several times a day. She often comes to the opera house in the evening after the shows and practices, she talks to herself. I wonder if she is lonely sometimes…_

Kurt dropped his pen, spinning around.

He was sitting in box five, invisible to the young woman on the stage walking back and forth, practicing her lines and songs, waving her arms and then getting frustrated when it didn't turn out to her satisfaction. Kurt liked watching her very much, it definitely wasn't her that was bothering him.

It was something else.

He flashed the brunette a quick glance before going to investigate, keeping to the shadows where he was safe and unseen.

Just inside the opera house, Kurt saw them from the room beams. He crouched flat, tucking his tail in and swallowing.

Five men dressed in black with masks over their faces, slowly they peeled away from each other and split up.

He'd a man like them before. Just one. And he'd died.

Kurt tried to supress the panic at what this mean, when he blinked, yellow eyes widening as he realized that Wanda was still on stage practicing, oblivious. She was in danger. They couldn't find her here! She'd have seen too much for their liking.

In a second he was gone, back in the auditorium, desperately trying to come up with a plan in the few seconds he had left. "Quickly!" he whispered as loudly as possible, trying to shush Magneto's daughter as she sat on the stage, going over her lines several times under her breath. "Quickly!"

She glanced up, blinking and looking for the owner of the voice.

Kurt appeared back in the shadows near the stage, his large eyes darting to the double doors. One of them was sure to be here any moment. "Miss, you must come with me!"

"Is someone there?" Wanda asked nervously, clutching her script tightly and quickly getting to her feet. Was it the ghost? She'd disobeyed Simon's instructions not to come at night, but it was the only time when she could practice without being disturbed…and nothing had happened anyway. She was positive everyone was overacting, there had to be more sensible reasons to what had been going on.

Although…how that man had gotten hung she wasn't sure. She tried not to think about it. "Hello?"

"You're in danger. You must come with me. Now!" Kurt was getting desperate. "Go backstage then wait for me." They didn't have any more time. He had to trust she'd do it.

Wanda swallowed, wondering if she was just going crazy. But if she wasn't, if she was the ghost…she didn't want to get murdered either. Then, she spotted a shadowy figure against the double glass doors entering the auditorium carrying something. Very quickly she darted backstage. "Hello?" she was whispering now, scanning the darkness.

"Follow me. Down the stairs." A large board on the floor got pushed aside, uncovering stairs leading into pitch black.

Wanda could hear footsteps pattering down, she hesitated a moment, glancing over her shoulder. But she had a very bad gut feeling that the man she'd seen wasn't friendly, so she followed the strange voice down the stairs, deep into the heart of the opera house. She wasn't sure what was down here. The voice kept whispering for her to hurry, scrambling around corners and further down, always down. Wanda couldn't help but feel like she'd been led into a trap. "Wait! Wait for me!" she ran, slipping on the mould and slime growing on the stone, groping blindly in the darkness. "Wait!" she skidded to a stop as it ended suddenly, nearly smacking into the wall. "Hello?" she was desperate now, terribly scared. "Are you still there?!"

"Shh!"

She quieted instantly, swallowing the lump in her throat and wrapping her arms around herself. A few moments later, just when she was wondering why she'd been shushed, she heard footsteps. Far, far above them. She shivered, wondering was the hell was going on. But she stayed silent, until the footsteps died away.

"Can I ask you what's happening now?" her voice held a tone of sarcasm, trying to hide the face she was terrified. However the answer she got wasn't comforting in the least.

"Those men would have killed you."

"W-why?" It took her a moment to recover enough to speak. To speak to an invisible figure. She had to be going crazy. "Are you the ghost? Did you kill that man? Were those men looking for you?"

Silence. And Wanda didn't think she'd get an answer.

"I did not kill that man." The voice was very quiet, almost…sorrowful. "Despite what you have heard, I did not kill him. I would not hurt anybody."

Wanda blinked. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness some and she could swear she could see a faint outline…but then it was gone. "What…what are you?"

"I have to go. There's a passageway here leading outside."

A stone in the wall got pushed, and it opened to a small tunnel. Wanda could smell fresh air. "Wait!" she glanced around, hoping it hadn't gone yet. "At least tell me your name?"

But the voice, the ghost…whatever it was. It had gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt sat on the floor of the ragged rug in front of the old box television that had no sound and liked to cut out very often, watching his favourite movie Zorro.

He may have seen the movie a million times but it still kept him thoroughly engaged—to the point where it wasn't rare to find him with a borrow prop (or three) from the opera stage, balancing on the roof beams and mirroring the action sequences.

However tonight was a different story, his yellow eyes kept darting to the window, tail lashing anxiously. He was still very disturbed from the men in black coming into the opera, and then there was Eric's daughter…

He got up and went to the window, crouching on the sill and watching the bordering house opposite. The silence was bothering him even more. Was the brunette safe? Had those men caught her? He had watched her enter the tunnel, and closed it behind her, only hoping and praying that she would not be caught once she was outside and questioned. He knew what those men would have done if they had found her inside…but to find her outside would also not be good.

Kurt didn't like that there were more of them—far more than the single man who had ended up hanging from the beams of the roof. Bad things were stirring up, and it was unsettling him. Especially when people like the pretty singer were getting in harms way.

While he was desperate to know if she was safe, he knew it would be very stupid to go and check. He didn't have a death wish, that was for sure. So Kurt told himself to be patient, and tightly pulled the curtains shut and hopped onto the frayed mattress in the corner of the room, reaching for his diary underneath and then realising he had left it in the auditorium in his haste.

His tail lashed irritably. There was nothing he could do about that either, unless he wanted to risk the chance of running into those men.

No…not after last time.

Kurt blew out a sigh and pulled the scratchy blanket over himself, blowing out the candles and switching off the TV. No…sleep was probably not going to happen, but he could hope…even if he was tired of hoping. He tucked his tail over his nose and closed his eyes.

He overslept.

The sound of singing and piano playing jolted him from his slumber. The sun was streaming underneath the curtains and across the floorboards—he'd really overslept.

Kurt wasted no more time, yet in such a rush he told himself to still be careful.

Luckily everyone was down on the stage, and he appeared in box five safely, crouching down and frantically looking for his note book.

But it was gone.

This only agitated Kurt even more. Where could it have gone?

He was terrified at the thought that someone would have found it…someone like those men.

For a long moment he sat there, eyes closed tightly as he debated on what to do. Then he remembered.

The girl. He still had to check on her.

There was nothing he could do about his book.

Reluctantly, he vanished, instead peeking backstage and through the opera for the brunette.

Everyone was there, Eric was with Simon—who was with a pretty blonde blinking her eyelashes at him, the silver-headed kid who did odd duties was lounging backstage getting told off because he couldn't have possibly already finished his chores already, the dancers were practicing, the singers were singing…but Kurt couldn't see any sign of the woman from last night. This made him even more worried, but he knew if he wanted to know if those men had taken her, he would have to check the boarding house.

Only it was daytime. He didn't go out in daytime.

His tail lashed once more with frustration as he returned to his small quarters and thought again on what action to take.

If he went now he'd be seen, If he waited till night and the men really had taken her, then there was no hope of saving her. But if they had her now what could he do anyway?

It took a long couple moments, but Kurt finally decided to wait until it was dark. And once again tried to distract himself with Zorro, watching the play or listening to the singing. But none of it worked. He was too upset about his diary—that's what he told himself anyways.

The girl was just…a trifle.

However the moment it was dark enough for him to be safe, he went to the boarding house, very pleased he already knew where her room was from the first night of singing.

And he couldn't deny that his heart leapt to see that she was safe, sitting on her bed reading...

Reading. She was reading. She was reading his diary.


	5. Chapter 5

Wanda gaze down at the book in her lap, but wasn't registering the hand-written words on the page at all.

She'd had a very troubled morning after a very troubled night.

There was certainly more then something strange going on at her father's opera, and she wished she had known about it before now because she probably wouldn't have decided to come sing.

She loved the acting part, and the plays….but the people, the place, the…sinister feeling she didn't like. It made her very uneasy.

The only logical explanation for what was happening was that people were hiding things, not telling the truth. There was something…bubbling under the surface. She didn't like this thought at all because it made her suspicious of everything and everyone. Simon's friendly—and slightly flirty—comments and gestures, Raven's silent demeanour and how she'd been around the longest, the strange visitor from last night and the men in the opera….

She closed the diary and pulled the blanket up to her chin, longing for the quiet cottage she had been living in by the sea…it no longer seemed boring.

She'd accepted the invitation from her father because she was tired of living there. It had gotten boring. But now she felt like leaving again, going back to it. She'd thought maybe she could find…that missing piece here.

"There's always Simon, I suppose." She murmured to herself almost sarcastically. However she doubted he actually cared for her at all. It was very superficial—plus, she was the daughter to his employer, highly convenient.

"Excuse me."

Wanda blinked, positive she'd just heard the strange voice from last night. "Hello?"

"If you're done reading my book…I'd like to have it back. Please."

Wanda glanced down at the diary in her hands and flushed, realising she'd been caught reading someone's personal property. And it snapped her from her thoughts rather sharply.

She hesitantly pushed it toward the end of the bed.

A dark hand flashed out and grabbed it before she finished blinking.

"You're…not a ghost, are you?" she asked quietly, her head spinning. A ghost wouldn't write a diary…would it? That diary had felt too human. A human struggling for a place, a purpose. Kind of like her.

She waited for an answer.

"No. I am no ghost." The reply was very quiet.

"And…there's not a ghost, is there?" she probed further, hesitant to ask too much after this….dark figure's disappearance last night. She felt like this person, thing, whatever, was very important to what had been going on.

"No. No ghost."

Wanda was silent. "You said last night you didn't kill those men…"

"I didn't!" the voice was high and almost nervous.

Nervous about what? What was it scared of? Was it guilty?

"You do realise it's hard to believe that when you're an invisible…being, who knows how to sneak around the opera house. Why * **shouldn't** * I call my father in here and tell him I've found his ghost." Wanda folded her arms, staring at the end of her bed on the floor. She could see, in the darkness, a shadow moving some. It wasn't invisible. "Why?" she demanded.

"I can't give you a reason. I can't make you believe me. But I do know…that those men last night would have killed you, if they'd found you."

Wanda blinked several times and ran her fingers through her hair. "This…this is crazy. What's happening…" her voice choked up suddenly at the end and she pressed her lips together.

Kurt crouched on the floor, watching Wanda's eyes fill with tears suddenly. She was scared. Scared of him, scared of what was happening to her father's opera and scared because she didn't know what to believe.

And Kurt felt…guilty and painfully sorry for her. She didn't know the truth—the truth was hidden, twisted and turned to make people believe it was a lie.

He could tell her the truth. Show her.

But…what would be the consequences?

He swallowed, pushing that to the back of his mind before quickly jumping up and grabbing her hand before vanishing back into the opera house and his small living quarters.

Wanda froze, staring at the large wall in front of her.

There were newspaper clippings, about the opera, the ghost, the man being killed.

Slowly her eyes moved around the room, noticing the mattress and old blanket, the box TV…

A book was pushed to her feet. The diary.

"You…live here?" her eyes darted to the shadows in the corner and she swallowed noticing this time a pair of yellow eyes blinked at her.

"Yes. For a long time, since the circus came. I broke free and vanished into the sewer system."

"You were in the circus?" Wanda was confused still, also very wary.

"The crowd liked to stare at me. People paid money."

"Why?" Wanda wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

"Because of who I am. They called me the Nightcrawler. A demon from hell."

Wanda's gaze snapped to a heading on one of the articles about such a demon.

"You said you weren't the ghost!"

"I'm not. Ghosts haunt people…I am the one being hunted."

Wanda shook her head pulling away to pace around the room. "I don't want to believe this."

"You wanted to know the truth."

"My father wouldn't just…hunt down someone and try to kill them!"

"A demon?" Kurt asked quietly.

"Demons don't exist." Wanda insisted flatly, a little desperately. Like she didn't believe it.

Then she turned and found one staring at her. Hanging from the ceiling, yellow eyes blinking, tail lashing…

Kurt jumped down to the floor before she could scream, eyes wide with concern. "Please…if you scream they will find me!"

"You…you're…" Wanda backed away a couple steps from the terrifying blue creature in front of her.

"I'm not what your father and everyone thinks I am, please…" Kurt swallowed hard, pleading with her. But his monstrous appearance was too much for Wanda and she tightly closed her eyes, trembling.

"No…no…take me back. Now!"

Kurt blinked sadly, hesitating for a moment before obeying her wish, and then returning to his room without her.

What had he done?


	6. Chapter 6

Wanda burst into the opera house the next morning like a hurricane. "Simon!"

She nearly collided into the manager in her haste.

"Wanda, darling…I'm so glad you're here. You see, I was just speaking to Raven about who I should take out for Valentine's Day—you do know that's this week, don't you?"

"Simon!" Wanda snapped. She didn't care what was going on this week, who he was talking to, or anything of the sort. She grabbed onto his coat sleeve and tugged him away from Raven and toward the corner of the room. "Listen to me. You know what you were telling me about when I first came? The ghost?"

Simon automatically looked fluttered. "Wanda, I told you—"

"Just * **listen** *!" Wanda was getting frustrated. Especially since her father already had dismissed her this morning. "I found him. The ghost. He's living somewhere in this opera house. And you can't find him because he can somehow…camouflage himself in the dark. And teleport himself just like that." She snapped her fingers.

"Wanda." Simon placed both hands on her shoulders. "I'm glad you're so concerned for your father's business. We're glad to have you, we really are. You've been doing a fantastic job. But…you know what I told you. Don't jinx the place further by making up these sorts of stories."

"But—"

Simon placed one finger to her lips. "Shh. Remember what I told you and let this all go."

Wanda slapped his hand away. "You believe there's a ghost, don't you?"

Simon pursed his lips. "You know what I believe."

"Then…why…" Wanda spluttered.

"Because there's nothing we can do except keep quiet and try not to aggravate it." Simon gave a forced, and very tight smile. "Now, I believe you are late for practice, am I right?"

Wanda had plenty more things she wanted to tell him. But she bit her tongue and spun on her heel, throwing him a sharp look before leaving.

If they were so called 'keeping quiet'. What were those men doing here the other night? They were searching for someone. Which meant….they weren't doing nothing like she'd originally thought the other day.

According to the ghost. They were hunting him.

Although, Wanda wasn't sure if she should believe the horrendous blue monster she'd seen last night.

Part of her was still hoping it was a bad dream.

….

She wasn't very good at focusing that day…eventually the director told her to go take five minutes. She went to her dressing room, staring at her reflection for a long time and trying to make sense of all this. She had pieces to a puzzle…a puzzle that seemed rather big. Yet she couldn't figure out how to put them together.

Simon was part of the picture, but not being helpful at all.

Her father also was being uncooperative…

That left one person.

Wanda shivered some at the thought of visiting the blue demon creature again. But he was the only one willing to talk—whether or not he was talking truth, Wanda didn't know yet. But she had to find out. She couldn't live like everyone else—in the dark, so to speak.

So she was going to face her fears.


	7. Chapter 7

_I think I have made a big mistake…I should have known better then to trust someone so easily._

 _I didn't even venture into the Opera House today. I stayed hidden. Hopefully she has not told anyone about me. But based on her reaction last night, I doubt that she will keep quiet._

 _No one wants a monster lurking nearby…not even a nice one._

Kurt dropped his pen, letting it roll across the floor as his large yellow eyes stared sadly down at his journal before his gaze swept over himself, landing on his pointed tail which he quickly tucked against himself.

If he was a dog, his ears would have been drooping all the way to the floor.

But he wasn't a dog. He was a hideous monster no one wanted to even look at. Let alone speak to.

"But I wouldn't hurt anybody." Kurt murmured to himself, shutting the book and padding over to the window where he crossed his arms and rested his chin against them. "Not…on purpose."

He had tried so hard to find someone—anyone—that would just be a friend to him. And found no one. So he had locked himself in the Opera House, watching people from a distance and wondering what it would be like to live a normal life. To be normal.

Perhaps, at least, it was better than the circus…

Although, at the circus Kurt had known other people, had contact with the other acts…they weren't friends, but they were people he could talk to sometimes. When he wasn't locked up in a cage he couldn't escape from.

Kurt moved away from the window, going over to his old mattress and pulling out a very crinkled, very faded and sad looking photograph.

It was black and white, of a pretty girl with dark hair and eyes….Kurt remembered her very well.

….

"Boys and girls, I present to you the incredible Nightcrawler!"

The blanket over the cage lifted, revealing the blue creature who was curled up tightly, yellow eyes just visible above his tail that draped over his nose and curled around his body. He was shaking like a leaf, eyes darting around the unfamiliar, staring faces that whispered.

And then it happened, the long stick. It struck him in the flank and sent a bolt of electricity through his blue body.

Kurt disappeared like he always did, crashing into the side of the cage he couldn't escape from, and scrambling to get away as it chased him and the crowd cheered and giggled and laughed and tried to grab him.

And then it was over, and he curled up in the corner, chest heaving and tailed wrapped tightly around himself as the children and adults were bustled away.

All except one.

A small girl. She stood silently, staring at him, but not laughing, not pointing. Just watching, almost sadly, until she too was dragged away.

The blanket was thrown over and Kurt pushed his hand through the wire, lifting the blanket just enough to watch her small figure disappear out of the tent.

He thought about her a lot that night, couldn't sleep.

It was cold too, which didn't help. It was snowing that day, and even with the text above them Kurt was shivering, curled up as tightly as possible and thinking about that girl…one girl who hadn't reacted like the thousands of other people he'd seen. One girl…

He pricked his ears, lifting his head hearing footsteps crunching on snow outside. The tent flap peeled back and a soft shadow slipped in.

Kurt got up as the blanket was pulled from his cage and he saw the same girl. She stared at him again, almost without blinking, for a long time.

"What's your name?" she asked quietly.

Kurt blinked hard, struggling to remember. He did…have a name. From before. But memories from before were shadowy and vague. "K-kurt." He whispered finally, shakily. "My name is Kurt Wagner."

She smiled, a beautiful smile.

"That's a nice name."

And she almost, made Kurt smile too.  
"I'm going to get you out of here, Kurt Wagner. No one should live like this." She looked angry all of a sudden, angry and sad. "You should be able to live like everyone else. Happy, free, with friends."

"Friends…" Kurt murmured to himself, under his breath. Friends like this girl!

He watched as she darted away, unplugging the cord that powered his cage.

And with a deep breath Kurt was free! Out of his cage, on the soft, cold ground. He gazed at her triumphantly. "You will come with me?" he asked hopefully, shyly.

She smiled again and offered her hand.

A gun exploded.

Kurt dived to grab her but it was too late.

The dark haired girl lay still on the ground, eyes closed.

Kurt flashed a quick, angry and fearful glance over his shoulder at the men in black firing at him, and vanished into the night.

….

That night was when he escaped into the sewers, found the opera house…

It was the loneliest night of his life.

The next morning the papers had read the story about the demon who had escaped, and a shot girl.

Needless to say, the circus quickly left.

After some long searching, Kurt had found the girl's grave, and waited until after the funeral to quietly walk over and thank her, and say he was sorry…that it shouldn't have happened. "I will make friends, and live the life you wanted me to." He promised gently.

The photograph had been at her gravestone. Kurt had tucked it away and kept it, as a reminder.

And he had tried to keep his promise.

But that girl, was still the only one.

The only one who didn't scream, or laugh, or point, or try to shoot him and grab him.

The only one.


	8. Chapter 8

"Wanda."

The brunette turned around, a slightly puzzled look on her face.

"Your calculations?"

"Oh! Yes, thank you, Hank." Wanda grasped the paper and hurried away before he could ask any questions. She knew if she wanted to find the blue monster, she was going to have to figure out where his little hide out was, exactly. So, she'd sent the rest of the day doing just that. With a little—okay a lot, of help from Hank. He was one of the stuntmen, but he was very good with figures.

Wanda was highly grateful to him, because with his latest calculations she was positive she could find where the yellow-eyed demon was. Then, she would ask him her questions.

After that….she wasn't sure what was going to happen. She hadn't thought that far.

And now, wandering through pitch black tunnels and feeling very lost despite the map she'd drawn, Wanda wasn't sure if she wanted to. It would be very easy to murder someone in a place like this…

"Don't be stupid, Wanda. You're overthinking things. When did you start being so nervous?" she shook herself, lifting her chin and bravely marching on, trying not to let her hand shake that was holding the torch.

"Ow!" she pulled back from the wooden wall she'd smacked into, rubbing her forehead and glancing down at her paper.

This wasn't supposed to be a dead end.

She ran her fingers against the grains on the wood, trying to find a possible handle or opening…

"Are you looking for me?"

Wanda jumped, dropping her torch and spinning around, coming face to face with those large yellow eyes. "I…" All the words went completely out of her head.

A long, blue tail flashed down and grasped the torch, holding it out to Wanda. "I boarded it up here, so people can't find me. Unless you know how to teleport."

Wanda gingerly took the torch, unsure if she should thank him or not. If he would be rude to shine the light on him to see him better. She still didn't know what to say.

Kurt watched her for a long moment, tail swishing thoughtfully. She seemed nervous still—he wasn't surprised considering her reaction yesterday. But she also seemed sort of…curious. And no doubt she'd come here to find him, not go for a stroll. "Do you want to go inside?"

Wanda only managed a tight nod, and by the time she blinked, they were in the small room she remembered.

Sort of.

This time it wasn't as terrifying.

Because as she gazed around, she noticed it was more cosy then…terrifying. The TV was even playing an old black and white swashbuckling movie.

She stopped glancing around, her eyes snapping to the blue creature in front of her. To her surprise, he was standing tall like…like a man, watching her still with his large yellow eyes. Despite his appearance, he felt…very human. Like she'd thought about the person who's written the diary.

"There's a place I like to go…when I need to think." He murmured when she still said nothing, just stared at him. "I can take you there…if you're not afraid of heights."

Wanda shook her head and then they were gone, and she nearly got a heart attack because less than a moment later they were on top of the opera house roof.

Kurt grabbed her arm rather quickly so she didn't fall off, waiting until she had her balance before letting go and settling down, tucking his tail around himself.

It was then that Wanda turned, noticing the sun setting on the horizon, splashing orange and pink against the clouds. "It's beautiful." She whispered under her breath, sitting down herself. The questions that she'd wanted to ask him were gone, she sat there quietly, watching the sunset and occasionally flicking the blue monster beside her a glance.

"I wanted to ask you….about what's happening." She murmured as the sun sunk lower and lower and she was finally able to piece her thoughts and feelings together. Somewhat.

Kurt glanced over at her finally. He'd let her think, let her ponder…obviously she needed it. And…the silence between them had actually been peaceful. Comforting, just having someone sitting there with him. Not screaming or running away, just sitting quietly… "But?" he prompted.

"I need to apologise." Wanda hesitated, meeting his yellow gaze. "For…my reaction yesterday. You're not a monster—I mean." She quickly corrected herself. "I know you look like one but…you're not. Monsters don't hide away from everyone and go on the roof and watch the sunset, and write journals, or watch Zorro." She quieted. "Monsters don't feel lonely."

Kurt blinked at her, unsure what to say. She was sorry…for being scared of him. She was telling him he wasn't a monster after nearly screaming at his appearance yesterday. Did she want something? "That's okay." This time, it was him who was speechless.

"Really?"

Kurt nodded. "Why?"

"Because…because…" Wanda wasn't sure why. She just expected him to be…angry. But thinking about it now, looking at him now, she supposed that wasn't the type of person he was.

Yes, person.

"I don't bite." Kurt insisted, giving her a smile and showing his pointed teeth.

This made Wanda want to laugh. She smiled back.


	9. Chapter 9

Wanda stared down at the dog-eared photo Kurt had passed her. That poor girl…

The sun had long set behind the horizon, and above them the sky was dark except for the tiny, twinkling stars. Kurt had told Wanda his story, how he had ended up at the opera…and it was making Wanda sad.

She felt guilty too, for thinking him to be a monster. He had done nothing but be kind to her, especially after she'd treated him so horrendously. Yet she didn't want to—couldn't—believe that her father was trying to kill the blue demon.

"You must miss her." She murmured finally, trying to push those thoughts away as she passed Kurt back the photograph.

He took it with his strange looking hands, staring at it for a moment before his yellow eyes moved away to the view. "She was the only person to accept me for who I am and help me believe that I don't have to be what others see me as. That I'm more than that." He went quiet. "People shouldn't judge by appearances."

Wanda swallowed, moving her gaze away from him and wrapping her arms around herself. "I agree." She whispered, and then her voice took on a more bitter and angry tone. "Not just…because of you but because people can be fake. They like to put on a mask and pretend that they are strong, or okay…" she trailed off.

Kurt blinked at her. So he was right…there was more to her then most people thought. "Why did you come to the opera?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"My father asked me to." Wanda attempted to pull herself together, softening her tone some. "And I thought it would be a good change."

Kurt didn't ask what she wanted to change from, because it really wasn't any of his business and as far as she was concerned, they barely knew each other. But Kurt had watched her since she arrived…and felt like he knew her all too well. "I am sorry. For scaring you. I am not very good at introducing myself, it seems…."

Wanda gave a tiny laugh, glancing over at him. But though she was smiling her eyes held a sad stain to them as she stared at him, taking in his blue figure, yellow eyes, and pointed tail and ears. He looked ferocious at first glance, but after talking to him Wanda didn't think he could hurt anybody. Perhaps she was wrong, maybe he really was the ghost and he was tricking her, blinding her but she just felt…like that wasn't him. Despite everything. "You shouldn't have to apologise…"

"But I do." Kurt looked serious, and shifted a bit closer.

"No you don't." Wanda crossed her arms and gave him a firm look. "As long as you forgive me for reacting the way I did."

Kurt grinned and lashed his tail in a way Wanda thought meant he was happy. "Deal."

They sat silently for a moment after that, Wanda deep in thought. "Can I ask you something else?"

Kurt wanted to answer her questions—he hadn't spoken to someone like this in…he couldn't remember how long. But he didn't think Wanda was ready. She still thought too highly of her father, and for her to know the truth about the opera would be too much for her to handle. "Another day. I believe you have a big performance tomorrow?"

Wanda blinked and nodded, realising she'd forgotten about it and she hadn't practiced well today either…or really at all. "Yes…thank you." She got up, knowing she needed to run over her lines a couple more times.

Kurt took her back to her room opposite the opera house, staying outside the window as Wanda gave him a wave and prepared to close the curtains.

"Wait!" Kurt swallowed, knowing that might have sounded a bit too desperate. "You never told me your name…"

"It's Wanda." She hesitated, knowing she'd read his in his journal but she couldn't remember…"And yours?"

"Kurt. Kurt Wagner."

"Goodnight, Kurt." She offered him another smile and then closed the window, and the curtains.

"Goodnight…Wanda."


End file.
